


I Promise, Okay?

by Queen_Triceratops



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Triceratops/pseuds/Queen_Triceratops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony's honeymoon is off to a good start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Promise, Okay?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work on this site, but my second work I've ever posted. I'm still super new at this. Reviews or kudos are VERY much appreciated! I whipped this up a few nights ago when I couldn't sleep. Please enjoy!
> 
> Also, I do not own Marvel or any characters of Marvel mentioned in this fic. If I did, Stony would be canon.

Steve woke with a jolt, and swept his arm to the side in a wide arc, meeting empty sheets in the predicted (but still lonely) absence of his husband. A soft pang resounded in his chest, but he shook it off with his sleepy morning fog and slipped out of bed to find Tony. Steve pulled on some pants and glanced around the bedroom. Still a tornado-mess from last night’s activities. If Steve were a weaker man, he would have blushed. The living room was probably just as wrecked. They hadn’t slept much. 

Steve began to address Jarvis before realizing belatedly that Tony and he weren’t staying in Stark Tower. The world outside the window was just coloring with the hazy grey-blue of the early morning. They had chosen a pretty secluded spot for their honeymoon, and it was beautiful, now that he was looking and could fully appreciate it. They had arrived late, and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other long enough to enjoy anything else or look around. Just sort of dived for the couch and- okay no. If Steve is going to keep up the “tough guys don’t blush” thing, he needs to stop thinking about last night. 

A quick survey about each room verified Tony's absence but Steve reasoned that he’d be back soon. Normally, if they had been back home, Steve would’ve ventured out for a morning jog, but he wanted to be in when Tony got back. Plus, he was unfamiliar with the area. He should probably just wait. And clean, he should definitely clean some of this chaos up. Steve set to work in the bedroom, and afterwards started in on the living room, and he did NOT think about the previous night, and he CERTAINLY didn’t blush, no. (The heat on his cheeks was just because it was hot in there, that’s all; Steve just needs to adjust the AC. He cranks it up, and there, that’s better, no blushing for this guy, no sir.) Just as he was finishing up, something in the corner of the room catches Steve’s eye and he wonders how in the world he had missed it. 

Then again...he probably could've missed anything once Tony started doing that THING with his-.

The thought is squashed suddenly by a flustered Rogers-Stark. A Rogers-Stark who is NOT going to start thinking about that THING Tony did last night. Somehow the glossy, black piano was completely unharmed from last night’s adventures. Steve is immensely grateful that they hadn’t broken it. He decides to take a break and moves over to the bench. It was magnificent, it was a Steinway, and it was practically begging to be touched. 

Steve brushes his hand over the top and feels overwhelmed in a way he doesn’t often. He used to play back before the ice - not seriously, certainly, but it had been a fond pastime. He hadn’t been able to take it up again, not since the serum. And certainly not since being unfrozen. Between catching up on everything, missions, and his unlikely, complicated, (and ultimately satisfying) relationship with Tony, he had never gotten the chance. Until now. It was very tempting. And seeing as how he had never played on such a beautiful piano before (he had grown up with a sad little upright that always seemed to be slightly out of tune), he was sitting on the bench before he had time to really think about it. 

Tony’s POV 

Tony walks in the door and nearly drops the handful of groceries he’d been carrying. He had thought that he had the place stocked appropriately, but when he had gotten up to fix breakfast he realized that he was mistaken. He had stocked enough for two people staying as long as he and Steve had planned, but he had forgotten to take into account Steve’s accelerated metabolism. The man eats like a wolf. He had rushed out immediately to fix it, without thinking to leave a note or anything, so he had been expecting to encounter a worried Steve upon returning. 

Instead, he finds a very handsome, very relaxed, very HIS Steve playing the piano and singing softly to himself in the living room. Which leaves Tony very antsy (he’ll give you three guesses where). Steve isn’t going to win any singing awards, and his playing isn’t the absolute best, but it IS good, and it definitely is affecting Tony in ways he can’t even decipher right now and he needs more. He sets the bags down gently, and forgoes the rest waiting in the car. He’ll get them later, the musical hunk in front of him deserves all of his attention. Steve has his back to his husband, so he doesn’t notice Tony until he’s basically on top of him. 

Steve’s POV 

The sun was steadily rising up from the East and Tony was probably bound to show up again soon from whatever he was doing, but when Steve was working the keys, he was lost to the world. His mind was frozen in another time. That is, until two eager hands are on his shoulders and he jerks away from the keys. 

“Hey Spangles,” Tony nuzzles into Steve’s hair, “Sorry if I scared you.” 

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine, I just…didn’t hear you come in.” Steve pauses for a moment, and smiles, “Spangles? You haven’t called me that in ages, Shellhead, why the sudden change?” 

Tony grins at the old nickname, and kisses the top of Steve’s head, “I don’t know, it just kind of slipped out. Sorry. You didn’t have to stop playing, I liked it. I didn’t know you were musical.”

Steve turned around on the bench to face Tony, and pulled him closer with his hands on his hips. Tony responds enthusiastically, and ends up balancing on Steve’s lap somehow. 

“I haven’t played in forever; I was just piddling around on it until you got back. Where were you, anyways?” 

"That was pretty good for just 'piddling around'," Tony commented, ignoring the last question, "You should play some more for me sometime. I'll buy you a piano, I probably have one laying around somewhere anyways. And I never hear you sing enough, what's up with that?" 

"Tones." 

"Yeah?"

"Where were you?" 

Tony looks sheepish, “I miscalculated the amount of food we would need and-“

Steve faked a gasp, “THE great Tony Stark miscalculated something?”

“Shut up.” Tony responded, indignant, “And that’s Rogers-Stark, to you, mister. ANYWAYS, I miscalculated and needed to buy more. I would’ve left a note if I had known how long it would take.” 

“That’s alright. I needed time away from you so I could clean up the mess we made from last night.” Steve said, decidedly NOT flushing red at the thought of Tony and that amazing THING he did with his-

“Awe, I LOVE it when you blush, it’s adorable!” 

“S-shut up, I am NOT blushing and it isn’t cute.”

“Excuse me, Winghead, I didn’t call you cute, I called you adorable. Which is what you are. When you blush. Which is what you’re doing,” Tony smirked.

“What’s with all of the old nicknames suddenly?”

“Don’t even try to change the subject, Capsicle, I see right through you. Literally. You are so red right now.” 

“You know, if you had called me all of those names the way you’re saying them to me now in the first place, we would’ve gotten together sooner.” 

“Eh, it was more fun when you had to work for it,” Tony winked, “Anyways…we are doing way more talking than what we should be doing.”

“Which is?” 

Tony leaned in closer, and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, and Steve can’t even believe that after all of these years, Tony can get his face to flush and his breath to hitch just by being too close. 

Just when Steve is about to close the gap, Tony whips his head to the side, pecks his cheek, and replies, “Unpacking the rest of the groceries.” 

As Tony pulls away and strides towards the door, he throws an evil little smirk over his shoulder. That little minx. Goddamnit. 

“Language, Cap!” 

Steve realizes he must've said that last thing out loud, "I'm never gonna live that one down, am I?" 

"Nope," Tony pops 'p' when he says it. 

He begrudgingly helps Tony unpack and when they’re done, Tony turns to him again. 

“So...now that that’s done…”

“How about another round?” Steve had even said it without blushing. Progress. 

“Couldn’t-have-said-it-any-better-myself-race-you-to-the-bedroom!” 

Tony had said it so fast and was already racing past Steve before the words had completely left his mouth. An unfair race by anyone’s standards. Steve had beaten him anyways.   
……..

Tony spoke first, tangled up in the sheets and Steve’s warmth, “So, Mr. Rogers-Stark, are you ready to get up? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” 

“Well, MRS. Rogers-Stark, only if you make it as you are.”

“Hey! I am NOT a Mrs., in case you haven’t noticed. And no more naked breakfast, I learned my lesson the last time with the bacon grease. Not fun.” 

“It was fun for me.”

“Only because you got to watch.” 

It went back and forth for a while, but eventually, Steve just sighed and said, “Can you believe that we’re married?”

Tony spoke after a moment, “Yeah…I guess I should feel assured, but it’s all so new and scary, and I don’t want to screw anything up.”

“I know. We’re gonna be okay, though. I promise.”

“How can you promise? Give me a reason why, I wanna hear.” 

“You're only asking that to be difficult. Because fuck you, that’s why.” 

Tony let out a surprised laugh and rolled his eyes, omitting the usual joke on language and instead simply stating, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too. That’s the second reason. Nothing can ruin what we have. If we can withstand gods from alien dimensions, invasions, a killer sentient robot-“

Tony ducked his head, “Sorry.”

“Hush, don’t interrupt,” Steve continued, “The point is, our relationship has withstood so much already. I have faith in us, and so should you. We’ll make it. I promise.” 

A pregnant pause and then, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Tony nodded.

They both fell uncharacteristically quiet after that, and Tony linked their banded hands together, and relished in Steve’s quiet strength. They made quite the pair. And they wouldn’t have it any other way.   
………

“But seriously though, no more naked cooking unless it’s you.”

Soft laughter, “Okay, Tony, I get it. No more.”

“Unless it’s you.” Tony reinforced. 

“Got it.”


End file.
